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<title>Magic is Eating my Soul by Pearly_Ashes</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27403387">Magic is Eating my Soul</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pearly_Ashes/pseuds/Pearly_Ashes'>Pearly_Ashes</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Mushrooms and Magic [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hermitcraft, Minecraft (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Corruption, Diamonds, Gen, Vex Magic, the shopping district</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 21:21:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>436</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27403387</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pearly_Ashes/pseuds/Pearly_Ashes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Mayor of the shopping district has won. And everyone is happy.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Mushrooms and Magic [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1997731</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Magic is Eating my Soul</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The town hall feels different these days. The air is heavy, and it never seems to be as warm as the rest of the shopping district. Even when the sunlight streams in the door the diamonds of the throne are icy cold, and if you hold your skin to them for too long it will tingle, and burn, and then it will feel like nothing at all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The throne is the same, as far as anyone can tell, but it seems to loom taller, the spikes scraping at the tall ceiling, and the man who sits on the high seat never stops smiling. No one at town hall ever stops smiling now. The skin of their lips is always stretched wide, wider than truly is natural, and their eyes are so cold. So cold and so very blue, like ice pulled from places better left alone. The same color peeks out from under sleeves, and at the collars of shirts, veins of it cutting through the skin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They do not leave the town hall very often. The shopping district is beautiful, but it is silent, except for the whispery giggles that come from every corner. Little shapes dart about in the shadows, only moving when you aren’t really looking.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The shopping district is brighter now, too. Diamonds hang everywhere, in the trees, on pristine shop walls, and pale blue crystals creep slowly out of the ground. They reflect the light just a bit too brightly, and hurt your eyes if you stare just a little too long. And they are always, always cold. The grass that grows around them seems too green, as though it were plastic, and it never grows even a blade out of place.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The mycelium is long gone. It was there one day and gone the next, and if there were any who disagreed, they were silenced almost as quickly. After all, this was a place of community, not a place for arguing such silly complaints. Everyone is happy in the shopping district.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everyone is always smiling.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The hermits don’t spend much time there anymore, though if you asked they couldn’t tell you exactly why. But as they talked their eyes would dart around, and they might lock on to something behind you, and they’d mutter out an excuse before leaving. And you’d be left with the cold feeling of being watched, although you know that nothing should be there. You can see there is nothing there.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But don’t look too hard. I’d hate to find you at town hall, standing before the throne of the mayor, Scar, who never stops smiling.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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